


Bed Rest

by ColorTeal



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Illnesses, M/M, Napping, Other, Polyamory, i needed some poly robits yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorTeal/pseuds/ColorTeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift is sick; Rodimus and Ratchet both comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Rest

Rodimus had brought Drift into the medbay. When the captain had asked if he needed a medic, Drift only said "Take me to Ratchet..." from a clenched jaw. Ratchet was quick to pull Drift aside, sitting him down in the closest available space and taking vitals.

"He looks worse than he feels." Ratchet huffed, undoing all the equipment he had plugged into Drift. "Still, good call to bring him in."

"He'll be fine?" Rodimus asked, perking up at the news.

"Mmhm," Ratchet nodded,  sliding out of his medical role into his role as Drift's partner and holding the white bot's hand. "He's not critical enough to stay here, though. Come on." He pushed a hand under Drift, and Rodimus pulled on his shoulders to get him to his feet.

"My chest still burns." Drift gripped at his armored chest. "I feel it in my throat."

"We'll get you back to your suite, Drift." Rodimus gave a weak smile. He pushed himself into one side of the lean mech, Ratchet doing the same on the other and they both assisted Drift to his room. Drift focused only on not cringing and groaning the whole way there.

"Lay down." Ratchet said, gruff but caring as captain and CMO both got Drift to his bed. "Just stay down, until standing doesn't make you feel so sick."

"You want us to stay?" Rodimus asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"If you want to." Drift rubbed at his chest, pressing into the metal until Ratchet pulled his hand away.

"None of that, now." He ordered, before calling First Aid over their open medical line that was now just a second line between himself and the CMO-in training. "I need to stay here with Drift, he keeps pushing on his chest and Rodimus doesn't count for "Adequate Supervision"," he said, finger quotes included.  "So-"

"I'll call you if I need you here, Ratchet." First Aid chirped, before hanging up.

"Rude. Both of you." Rodimus stated, before scooting into the bed and making himself comfortable next to Drift.

"You're one to talk." Ratchet sighed, slowly lowering himself to the bed and adding himself to the pile.

Drift settled his head into Ratchet, while Rodimus rest white, slender legs over his own, keeping them raised and idly massaged one of Drift's hands.

It was too silent for too long, Drift's hand concerningly limp in his gold grip. Rodimus spoke up in a whisper, "Drift, you still up?"

Silent, except for his and Ratchet's own vents.

And then; a soft snore, followed by a weird whistling noise.

"He’s asleep." Ratchet answered for Drift, settling in for some shuteye himself. "He's feeling better, Rodimus, if he's asleep."

Rodimus nodded, quiet for Drift's sake as he shifted to get comfortable. He held onto Drift’s hand with both of his own, listening to Ratchet power down and shutting his own optics off for some rest.

 


End file.
